Define Love
by The Demon's Song
Summary: Define love, Booth challenged.  Then we'll talk.  And Temperance had never been one to turn down a challenge.  BB fluff by the ton.  Supposed to be a one shot, but I might add on.  Please R&R.


**Warning: if you think fluff is toxic, then don't read. Otherwise... enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Bones, this story would not be fan fiction... it would be plot.**

She sat blearily at her desk, sipping her coffee.

Any other day, she would be leaning over that glass table, staring down a dead body and worming out its secrets. Any other day, she would be in the field, walking next to him and talking as she examined yet another dead body.

It was probably, she noted dryly, her fault. After all, her whole life seemed to revolve around the dead. Was it really so surprising that she had forgotten how to deal with the living?

But today wasn't any other day. He was angry at her, she supposed—as to what he was angry about, she hadn't the slightest clue. But he was ignoring her, and Ange said she should take the day off to think.

Ange had gone on one of her rampages the day before—you love him, Tempe, and you know it—and that might have been the cause. If Angela had babbled at Booth, then it was entirely possible that it was Ange's fault.

Did he think she loved him? Because that might explain it. She would find him, and explain rationally that Ange was wrong, that she didn't love him. That they could still be partners. Still be friends.

That seemed like the best plan she had.

She would find him, and talk to him. It would go back to normal.

She just needed to finish her coffee first.

o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Booth?" She caught up with him, tapping him on the shoulder.

He spun irritably. "What, Temperance?"

"Is something wrong?"

"Not with me, no."

"Look, has Angela told you I loved you or something?"

He bristled slightly, then looked at her. His look was soft, encouraging. "Do you?"

"No, Booth, look. We're just partners, alright. Just partners. Now, will you stop ignoring me?"

The bristles returned. "Only when you stop ignoring yourself."

"What the hell are you talking about, Booth?"

"You've made a break with reality, Bones. I'm going to ignore you until you find out what the hell is going on by yourself."

"I've still no idea what you're saying."

He grunted, turning and walking away. Something in her wanted to call out, because she didn't want to lose him... another part chided her for being childish.

She was silent. She was going to lose him, but she was not going to make a scene.

Just when she was giving up, he turned back. "Fine," he yelled to her. "How about you start by defining love."

o0o0o0o0o0

Define love.

She swirled in her swivel chair. At least it was a challenge, which meant he hadn't completely given up on her.

From a scientific standpoint, love was a rush of chemicals which helped promote reproduction. Love was the brain's pleasure center turning on at the thought of a certain partner. Love wasn't real—just the brain helping to enhance certain biological urges. Love was all chemical, all genetics.

She sighed. She knew he had not meant what she was thinking of.

Perhaps he had given up on her. Given her a challenge he knew she couldn't complete, just to give her false hope.

She sighed, snapping on a pair of lab gloves. At the very least, she was going to be productive.

The swivel chair spun one last time in silence.

o0o0o0o0o0

"What do we have here?"

Hodgins' eyes focused on her. "Angela said you were taking the day off."

"Yeah, well, Ange might not know everything." Hodgins looked at her, defiant. She sighed. "Fine. I'll do this one verification, and then I'll take the day off. Happy?"

Satisfied, he handed her a copy of the file.

"Olivia..." Zack began to read off the file, but she was not listening.

The words meant nothing to her.

She worked slowly.

Love meant nothing to her.

She examined the cranium with a keen eye.

It was time to go visit Angela.

o0o0o0o0o0

"How would you define love?"

Angela leaned back at her desk, eyes narrowed. "Now, sweetie. You know I'm not allowed to help."

"Look, Ange. Booth isn't talking to me because I can't define love. That doesn't make much sense to me, but I can say this: I won't let that stop me. I've got to figure this out."

"That drive... in a way, that's a sign of love." Angela held up a hand, silencing her before she could even begin to protest. "Sweetie, there is more than one kind of love."

"There is love for a sibling, a parent, a family member. Love for friends. Love for those you want to protect. And then there's romantic love."

"I think he probably meant romantic love."

"Well then... love is something that happens to you. You don't control it: sometimes you don't even recognize it when it's right in front of your face. It sneaks up on you, sometimes. Until you can tell its there, you see the world... well, differently."

"Once you can tell it's there, it's like a thread. A thread that binds you and your lover together, a thread that starts so fragile you hardly want to breathe, lest you break it."

"But it grows. It strengthens until you realize your lover is your life. That they would support you anywhere, no matter what you're doing..."

She looked at Angela, bemused. "This isn't helping."

"Hey, I'm just offering advice. Now, sweetie, I really have to stop helping you. You heard Booth: you have to do this on your own."

She nodded, then retreated to her office.

o0o0o0o0o0

It was two A.M., and she couldn't sleep.

It wasn't so much that her task worried her. Her challenge was something she could handle, eventually. It might take days or weeks or months, but she would figure it out, somehow.

But the separation from Booth during that time...

That part would bother her.

She rolled, tossed and turned.

And suddenly, something hit her.

Love was a sort of struggle. It was a fight between a male and a female to gain dominance in a relationship. It was a fight between all man kind to snag the right partner, to be happier than everyone else.

She sighed. Why couldn't she ever have useful revelations?

She waited for something more, something Booth would accept. She would not sleep until it came, she knew. So she waited.

She spent the night awake.

o0o0o0o0o0o

As she staggered to work the next morning, feeling very much below par and quite possibly looking like she'd missed a night of sleep, she realized love was annoying. It kept you up at night, made you wonder about it.

It was a mystery which could never be solved because what insights you had into its nature were few and far between.

And it was keeping her away from Booth.

Another sigh escaped her lips. God, she was so stupid for a woman with such a high I.Q.

She was surprised to find Booth waiting in her office.

"God, Bones. Did something attack you?"

She threw a glove at him. "Shut up, you. It's your fault I didn't sleep."

"Had an idea, have you?"

"Not even a glance of an idea."

His smile faded a bit. "Right, well, I hadn't expected much so soon."

"Why are you here, then?"

"Because Cullen has a case, and he expects us to work together. I'll see you in ten minutes at the van. Any later than that and you're getting your own transportation."

He walked out, and she settled down, sipping at the beverage in her hand.

She had time for a cup of coffee.

o0o0o0o0o0

Cam waited for them at the crime scene. "Good morning, you two."

They stood, silent and back to back, something like a pair of petulant children.

"Or... not good morning?" She asked, noting the tension.

Booth snorted and walked away to converse with an officer on the scene.

"Okay... that was really odd. Dr. Brennan?"

She snapped back to reality, dragging her eyes off of Booth's back. "Sorry, Dr. Saroyan."

"Right, well, eyes on the prize. This victim was found in the lake. Probably been dead around two months--"

"Dr. Saroyan," she said impulsively, "how would you define love?"

Cam blinked. "Crime scene, remember? Neither the place nor the time to discuss this."

"Right. It's just, I have something of a bet with Booth..."

Cam chuckled. "Oh, that's why everything is so off. Well, I would be mad too, if you hadn't realized."

"Realized what?"

"My point exactly. All right, Dr. Brennan, listen to me. I'll tell you, but only because Booth is a good guy and he doesn't deserve this kind of frustration."

"Love is a pair of colored glasses. When you're in love, the whole world seemed different. Everything looks beautiful and good, everyone seems happy. Once those glasses go on, you know you never want to live without them again. You know that without love, you'll never feel as complete."

"Now, if you will, we have a case to work on..."

"Right. Female, aged..."

She said the words instinctively, but her mind was somewhere else. Finally, she was getting somewhere.

o0o0o0o0o0

She returned to the lab some hours later.

She was finally comfortable, finally safe. This was her place.

Booth, however, cringed as soon as he entered. He obviously did not feel the same way. Booth ruled the field, the interrogation room. He had no concrete footing in this land of chrome and metal.

As the air rushed over her, another revelation followed.

Love was a balance. It was seeing past the problems your lover had, stepping out of your comfort zone and risking it all. It was leaving your sanctuary for a chance, just a chance, to be with them.

She was closer.

She would make it, she realized with a jolt. She could do this.

For the first time in a day, she smiled.

o0o0o0o0o0

She was showering, after a long day at work.

She was hot, and sweating, and yet she could think of nothing but the challenge.

Love. She had no idea why it plagued her so, but it had gone beyond the challenge. There was something she wasn't seeing, something everyone else saw.

With a shrug, she tried not to think about it.

Instantly, new ideas filled her mind.

Love was a journey. It was something you couldn't do with just one person. It was something you never wanted to end.

Love was a strong hold. It was something you could count on, something you could fall back on. It was a safe haven when the world seemed to be against you. It was a shelter from the rain.

She sighed. This wasn't it, not yet. There was something missing.

She would find it.

But first she was going to take a shower with no interrupting thoughts about love.

And somehow, that was even more challenging than her bet.

o0o0o0o0o0o0

Her night was a sleepless one, like she had anticipated.

It was just one word, just one idea that had never bothered her before. So why couldn't she think of anything else?

Love was trust, she realized. Love was giving someone else your heart and hoping they didn't break it. Love was stepping off the edge and trusting that your lover would catch you.

Who did she trust enough to love?

A wave of weariness washed over her. She would figure it out in the morning.

O0o0o0o0o0

She sat at her desk, drinking her daily coffee.

She was so close, she could taste it. Then Booth would talk to her, trust her again.

Trust...

And suddenly the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place.

Love was a miracle. A miracle that no one should let slip past them. And she knew, deep inside her, that she was missing it.

A gasp left her mouth as the truth revealed itself to her.

She had to find Booth.

And this time, coffee was not a priority.

o0o0o0o0o0

"Booth!"

He was right where she had thought he would be.

"What, Bones--"

And then the air rushed out of him as she crashed into his chest.

"I'm sorry I've been an idiot. I'm sorry I couldn't figure out what love is."

"So," his voice came from somewhere above her, "you've figured it out now?"

She pulled back, reluctantly: he had to see her face for this. "Love is a balance, a miracle, a safe haven. Love is trust. But beyond that... love is never the same for any two people. Especially us."

He chuckled. "Especially us." His fingers twined agreeably in her hair. "I love you, Temperance."

She smiled at him slyly. "And you couldn't have just told me because..."

"You never would have understood if you didn't do it yourself."

"True enough."

"But, Bones... are you sure this will work? Being partners and whatever we are now?"

"It will," she said, perfectly sure of herself. For once, she knew. There was no factual proof, but she _knew_.

"How do you know?"

"I know, Booth. I know."

"Then prove it."

It was one last bet, one last challenge, but this time she would be defining the boundaries of their relationship.

A grin played across her face, and a few more words escaped before she leaned up to kiss him:

"You're on."

**So, did you like it? I really did, so I had to share.**

**Well, please review!!! Lotsa love to all who do (look, I'm a poet and I know it.)**

**No Flames!!!**


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